Every last bone in his body is telling him to believe Eduardo. It used to be so easy. It used to be that anything that came out of Eduardo's mouth (except for his opinions on handling technology, of course, and by extension facebook itself) was immediately to be trusted. To be believed. It made the world a lot easier to deal with, Mark sometimes handing off certain questions or situations to Eduardo, who had a lot more intuition in some cases, or was just more well-informed in others. And as Mark is no expert on all things medical and certainly isn't in the habit of having long, convoluted, detailed dreams, he's tempted to defer to Eduardo's claim and just be done with it, to treat the island as an island, to treat magic like it actually exists (ha). But the dots just aren't connecting. It's not Eduardo's fault— if everything that he's saying is true, then there are no explanations that can help piece everything perfectly together— but it's a detail that Mark needs right now, with respect to this.

So. He's just not quite sure he believes it all.

That said, even if all of this is some long, twisted dream on Mark's part, there's still a game here. There's still a way to mold a dream to one's benefit, and a way for it to quickly become a nightmare. Strangely enough, it's at that point that it hits Mark, that a nightmare for him wouldn't be Eduardo suddenly growing fangs or him blowing up the facebook headquarters (the second would just make him mad), but instead it's, well. It's if he ends up causing that same look on Eduardo's face, that pained look, no matter which direction he steps in. Like walking on thin ice. That's the stuff of nightmares.

Thus he nods. "Okay. Okay, I believe you," he replies, and for a moment he almost believes it, certainly believes it in the context of the dream, nodding and breaking contact in the flyaway way he always does, heading back in the direction of the hut again.